


Returned

by Mordhena



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Heaven, Hell, M/M, References to Metatron, Wings, demon tablet, hurt!castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-19
Updated: 2015-04-19
Packaged: 2018-03-24 16:53:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3776200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mordhena/pseuds/Mordhena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Coda to 10x18 Castiel visits Crowley</p>
            </blockquote>





	Returned

When Castiel appears, it hurts to look at hm. Crowley narrows his eyes and turns his head away slightly. 

"You're positively glowing, Kitten."

"I got it, Roderick. I got my grace back." Castiel smiles and holds out his arms, as though modelling a new coat.

"Hm. Bravo." Crowley's sources had apprised him of this already. This, and more. But he won't steal the Angel's thunder.

"I'm not fully restored, my wings...they're damaged."

Crowley sips from his ever present glass of Craig. "Well, a little oil. Some preening, they'll be good as new." 

Castiel frowns, a mixture of puzzlement and disappointment in his expression. "I thought you'd be pleased," he says. 

"I am pleased, Kitten." Crowley watches him. Waits. He know there's more and he knows the angel is holding out on him. He wonders how long it will be before he tells. He wonders if he will tell.

"Metatron escaped. I haven't told Dean."

There it is.

"Yes," Crowley says. "Word is the Demon Tablet is back in play." He might as well let the bird know that he knows, end the suffering. He's feeling charitable.

"He tricked me," Castiel says. "His plan was to restore himself with my grace and use the demon tablet against you and Hannah."

It amazes Crowley that the angel can still be wounded by Metatron's trickery. Deception is the scribe's default. "So, we find him. And make no mistake, this time I finish him and I get the tablet."

"I wanted to kill him," Castiel says. "I've never felt that way about any brother. Even the rogues, I tried to reason with them, but Metatron. He has corrupted heaven."

"Then, we end him."

Castiel nods and extends his shattered wings. Light begins to emanate from him. Crowley raises a hand, defensive, and steps back a little.

"Easy, Love."

Castiel folds his wings and the light dims. "I would never hurt you," he says.

Crowley wonders at the truth of that. Wonders just what it would take to turn the angel against him. Figures that it would have to involve Dean Winchester.

"It's good to know you're back to full strength," Crowley says, "but I'm fond of this suit."

"So am I." The angel's smile is a little sheepish. He shakes out his wings and the scorched feathers change to something approaching white, though it is a pitiful display. They are tatters more than feathers and so many are missing or twisted out of shape that you can hardly call the result wings at all.

"You're going with white? I rather liked the black feathers on you."

"I don't feel worthy to have white feathers," Castiel replies. "But they need to mend and that is their natural colour." He pauses, shuffles his feet, gives a nervous little cough.

Crowley watches him quietly. He knows what's coming but he wants to hear the angel ask.

"Angels thrive on love," Castiel says at last. "It would speed the healing process."

"If I didn't know you better, I'd say that was an out and out lie, Kitten."

"No. I uh, heard it somewhere."

Crowley sets down his drink and walks towards the angel. With a wave of his hand, that ridiculous coat, along with the rest of Castiel's clothing vanishes. "Better." The tattered wings tremble a little and Crowley smiles. "Shall we?" He gestures towards the bedroom.


End file.
